T h e A d v e n t u r e s o f C h i c a g o J o
|2003-03-11 – 1:08 p.m.|
Okay my faithful readers. I have tried and tried, and this is the closest I’ve come to getting a picture of Hambone on the toilet.
This is post-poop, him scratching the seat because there’s nothing else to scratch.
He has been in training for the past month with only a few mishaps. Generally they come in the most embarrassing time. Like when I just finish bragging about him to a visitor and he takes a crap on my bathmat.
Crystal got to witness the first turd fall, only to have my shriek, “Kitty!” and move him mid-poop to the toilet to finish his business.
I was embarrassed for him. But I handled to well. Giving him “good-kitty” pats for being a “big boy” and using the toilet.
God help my children. They’re in for a nut job of a mother.
Every time I hear him in the bathroom, I turn on my digital camera and make a dash for it. Yesterday I tried three times to snap a picture of him peeing, but the camera would not take a picture of him in his glory. Perhaps the batteries are running low, or perhaps this is some code of kitty embarrassment. Either way, I at least got the scratching picture.
Okay, so I did get two more humorous pictures of Hambone in the bathroom. And because you people don’t mind me talking about my cat...
For some reason he likes to sit in the bathtub [shrug] FREAK CAT!
He waits outside the bathroom while I’m in the shower, anxiously waiting for me to step out and dry off so he can hop in there. He props his front paws up on the tub and waits until no bathwater remains. Then he get in there and sits facing the drain.
Perhaps he has a hypothesis for helping kids get over their fear of being sucked down the drain. What a philanthropic kitty!
Perhaps he’s waiting for a drip from the faucet so he can lap it up! What a zen-like kitty, awaiting a reward for his patience!
Or perhaps he just likes to get wet before hopping onto my Ralph Lauren goose down comforter.
I have a feeling that I know which it is. But until he learns English, there’s no telling what’s really going on in that kitty head of his.
[SIDE NOTE: Hambone’s name, given to him by his original stoner parents was Mister Kitty Head. No wonder Matt stole him!]
Helga’s limited knowledge of English has her repeat the following four sentences each and every time she seems Hambone:
“I like him / He is not like a cat / He is like a dog / I like him”
Seriously, without fail, these are her words. She may occasionally substitute “love” for “like,” but that is the gist as she tries to take him back to her place under her arm.
[Sexual perversion: No, I don’t know what she plans to do to my cat once she succeeds in getting him back to her place. *wakka-wakka* Poor kitty-kitty...]
I caught Hambone in a dog-like pose the other day:
[shaking head] Really kitty... Must you remind me of my negligence for failing to refill your water bowl?
All right. There’s your weekly fill of Hambone, the kitty we all love.